Recovery
by SittingInACoffeeShop
Summary: Stan's arthritic back problems have finally reached the point to which surgery is needed. Thankfully Mabel, Dipper, and Ford are there to help him through the long road to recovery.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Stan's arthritic back problems have finally reached the point to which surgery is needed. Thankfully Mabel, Dipper, and Ford are there to help him through the long road to recovery.

 **A/N:** This story will only be about five chapters or less. I was just itching to write some Gravity Falls something or other.

 **Recovery**

 **Chapter 1**

To say that Mabel was worried was an understatement. Over the past few hours she could not help but think about what could go wrong.

What if they gave him too much anaesthetic?

What if they could not stop the bleeding from the incision?

What if…?

What if…?

What if…?

"Mabel, are you okay? You're not blinking."

Mabel emerged from her unnerving thoughts and looked at her brother. Dipper was watching her with slight concern.

"What is taking so long?"

"Don't worry, Mabel. I bet the doctor will be out any minute now to tell us that the surgery was successful," Ford said in an attempt to reassure his great niece.

Ford was worried as well, but the relief that his twin brother was finally getting the help he needed overpowered all else. Dipper could not help but feel lax about the surgery as well. After all, Grunkle Stan had survived a lot worse than a profitable surgery.

"I sure hope you're right…" Mabel said, looking down at the white tile floor.

She wished she had been allowed to bring Waddles as some sort of distraction and form of comfort, but when she tried Ford said it was quite unlikely the hospital staff would approve of a pig hanging out in their waiting room.

Dipper grabbed her hand when he noticed her start to chew her fingernails. It was a nervous habit that she had been doing on and off throughout their entire time in the waiting room. Every time she started to bite, he would wordlessly stop her.

Finally, a familiar doctor walked into the waiting room.

"Stanford Pines?" he called, looking in their direction.

Ford closed the book he had been reading and stood up. Dipper and Mabel followed him to where the doctor stood in the doorway. The scrub-clad man gave them a reassuring smile before gesturing for them to follow him down the hallway.

"Everything went just fine. He's set up in recovery now, but shouldn't wake up for another hour or so."

"Great," Ford sighed in relief.

"So we can go in and see him?" Dipper asked.

The doctor nodded.

Once they were outside the room, Ford looked at the pair of twins and told them to go on in while he discussed further information with the doctor. He smiled at their retreating back as they walked into the room, happy that Mabel was no longer stressing.

Stan was clad in a sky blue hospital gown. A soft, off-white blanket covered his legs and waist, but the chiropractic back pillow he frequently used was evident underneath his body. Even after the anaesthetic wore off, it was highly likely Stan would not have any trouble falling back asleep despite being propped into a bit of a sitting position. After all, he was always falling asleep in his recliner.

Stan was just fine. So why was Dipper feeling so downhearted all of a sudden? It was not like Grunkle Stan was on his death bed. He was merely recovering from a successful open spine fusion.

It had to have been the hospital environment and the fact that his dentures were off to the side in a bubbling glass of antibacterial cleanser. It also must have been the way he looked so still and just plain tired. He did not look like the normal loud, grouchy man he was used to. It was unnerving.

"You okay over there, bro bro?" Mabel asked, looking like her normal self again; big grin and all. She had even found joy in dropping another cleanser tablet into the glass of fake teeth just moments before, while simultaneously talking to her unconscious grunkle.

"Yeah, yeah," Dipper replied. "I'm just…I guess it's just…he looks so old, y'know?"

"Well, duh. Grunkle Stan _is_ old," she laughed. "Where have you been?"

Stan and Ford fought creatures and beasts on the sea. They encountered and studied cryptids in Gravity Falls. Just three weeks prior they stumbled upon a vicious pack of chupacabras deep in the woods and had to fight them off, leaving Ford with a nasty gash on his leg. Stan had helped stitch it up then proceeded to force him into a type of bedrest, much to the older twin's dismay.

Again, witnessing one of his great uncles limp around with a cane gave Dipper a reality check. His grunkles were indeed old. Their bodies were not getting any less fragile no matter the adventures they all went on and the dangers they faced.

The twins both looked toward the door as it opened and Ford walked in.

"What's up? What did the doctor tell you?" Dipper asked as Ford walked to the foot of the bed.

"He just gave me information on recovery and checking for infection and what not. Stuff I already expected to hear," he answered.

Dipper nodded.

"So, uh, kids…"

The young twins looked up at him. Ford rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Last night Stanley actually asked for me to um…not have you guys in here."

"What? Why?" Mabel asked, face falling into a frown.

"He doesn't want you guys in here when he isn't fully coherent," Ford explained.

"Well that's just stupid," Mabel crossed her arms.

How dare Grunkle Stan try and stop her from seeing him while he was in the hospital? He had taken care of them while they were sick or when Dipper had sprained his ankle, so why could they not do the same for him?

"I'm sorry, Mabel, but you know how he is. It's a dignity sort of thing."

"Coming from the man who walks around without pants," Dipper said, giving his sleeping grunkle the side-eye and crossing his arms; Ford had to fight the urge to laugh at how the young twins looked more identical than usual in that moment.

Ford did, however, give them a small but sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry kids, but I gave him my word," he said before looking specifically at Mabel. "Besides, that would give you more time to make that 'Get Well' sweater you were talking about."

Mabel's face lit up at that. Ever since they found out that Stan needed surgery, she had been planning the color, design, length, and fabric.

"Right!" she cheered with excitement, throwing her fists in the air.

Stanley gave a small groan and tipped his head a bit to the side.

Mabel covered her mouth before throwing her fists up again and whispering, "Right!"

"What does that leave me with? What the heck am I supposed to do in the meantime?" Dipper asked.

"Um…help Soos, Melody, and Wendy around the Mystery Shack?" Ford shrugged.

"Right…" Dipper said in a far less excited tone than his twin.

"Now run along, kids. If Stanley wakes up and you two are still here he'll put my head on the mantle."

An hour after Dipper and Mabel reluctantly departed was when Stanley awoke. His twin brother was so out of it that the best he could muster up as a form of conversation were a few mumbled and jumbled sentences. Consciousness only lasted about ten minutes before he was once again out like a light.

The second time he awoke was that evening. The slowness and confusion persisted slightly, but not nearly to the extent as before. This time around he had actually put his dentures in and placed his hearing aid back into his right ear.

Stanley grumbled as Ford poured water into a cup and handed it to him.

"I'm not an invalid, Ford."

"Yes you are. For now anyway."

"Yeah, but I can pour my own cup of water," he replied tiredly yet with the edge he always had when he argued.

"Stanley, you couldn't even reach over to grab the water pitcher without wincing in pain. Besides, you're not supposed to be doing any extra movement this soon after surgery anyway," Ford said, rolling his eyes.

Stan just gave a grunt as a response before taking another sip of water.

"Thanks for sending the kids home by the way."

"You're welcome. They definitely weren't happy about it though."

"Eh," was Stan's only response.

"Mabel did, however, seem excited to work on your sweater," Ford said with a grin.

"Jeez, I already have a million of 'em," he said.

Stanley could not fool his brother, though. He knew that Stanley was happy with each sweater he received, no matter the color or design.

Ford gave Stan a refill, allowing him to actually hold the cup this time so he did not feel too incompetent. However, when he took another drink was when the liquid decided to go down the wrong pipe. The incursion irritated his throat, which was already sore from the endotracheal tube that had been inserted during surgery. Stan dropped the cup, the water splashing all over the bed and onto his brother.

Dismissing his wet shirt entirely, Ford shot up and held his brother as still as possible so he would not put any strain on his healing lower back. Ford kept his arms firmly around his shoulders until the coughing fit subsided, face clearly displaying his concern.

Still worn out and mind still muddled from the anesthetic, Stan did not even notice that the remaining water in his mouth had pooled down his chin along with some drool. Ford grabbed a small towel from the bedside table and gently wiped off Stan's mouth and neck before feeding him more water to ease his distressed airway. Only some managed to slip down his throat before more of the liquid slipped from his mouth; without blinking, Ford dabbed once more at his brother's face.

"Agh, ow, shit…ow…" Stanley groaned as he attempted to place a hand to his lower back.

"Hey, it's okay. Easy now…" Ford consoled as he pressed him gently back into his original position against the chiropractic pillow.

"This freaking sucks," he said in a scratchy voice.

Ford smiled softly, though the worry still evident on his face. He was sure that if Stanley was in a better frame of mind or felt up to it he would have scolded him for staring at him in such a way.

"It'll all be worth it in the long-run," Ford said.

"Better be or I'm suing," Stan replied before closing his eyes once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hope you're all doing well! Sorry for the super belated update. I hope there are no errors in this because I can't check it until tomorrow (or later this morning...it is 4:24 AM my time)

 **Recovery**

 **Chapter 2**

Melody watched with amusement as Mabel revealed her latest creation to them, beaming in triumph as Soos and Wendy made exaggerated noises of admiration. The sweater was fuzzy, purple, and read 'Get Well Soon' in yellow letters.

"Now, I know what you're thinking…you want one too. Well, next time you guys get an open spine elusion I'll make you one."

"It's open spine fusion, Mabel. Fusion," Dipper corrected.

"Though, he is good at eluding," Wendy said.

"I'm sure he'll love it, Mabel," Melody said sweetly, making the young girl's grin widen even more.

"Yeah dude. Makes me want to have an open spine thingy too," Soos said.

The sound of a car pulling up caused everyone to look at the door. A few moments later, Ford walked in, appearing slightly frazzled.

"Where's Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked.

"Oh he's in the car. I'm just double-checking that everything is out of the way so that-"

"We know, we know," Wendy rolled her eyes. "You've told us a million-and-one times. We've kept the place all tidy so the old codger doesn't trip and blow out his back."

"Er…right. Sorry. Soos, where's Stanley's cane?"

Soos reached under the checkout desk and pulled out a polished wooden cane. The head was genuine mahogany carved in the shape of a dinosaur skull that resembled the one serving as a coffee table in the living room.

Dipper stared at it for a moment. "Snazzy."

"Totally badass," Wendy said with a grin.

"I thought it suited him," Soos shrugged. "When he made me Mr. Mystery, the job came with the 8-ball cane. I figured, why not get him a new one that's even cooler than his old one y'know?"

Ford raised his eyebrow at the tacky crutch before saying, "Right…well, I'll be right back."

Soos walked out onto the porch so he could be there if the older twins needed any help whatsoever, also to hand Mr. Pines the cane once necessary.

"Easy…easy now, Stanley," Ford gently instructed as Stan gradually got out of the vehicle.

"I know, Sixer. I got it," he said gruffly, but if the tight grip on Ford's arm was any indication, it was that Stan appreciated as well as needed the help.

The walk across the yard was relatively easy. Rather slow, but easy. It was the stairs that proved to be the most difficult part of the journey.

"Grunkle Stan!" they heard a muffled and excited shout from inside.

"Heh, I'm not even inside yet and she's already shouting at me," Stanley remarked.

Ford was going to respond, but the words were forgotten when Stanley grimaced and let out a groan, followed by him placing his free hand to his lower back.

Soos rushed forward to help, and Stanford asked, "Need to stop?"

"No, no. I'm fine," he said. "It's okay, Soos. Just…just stand there or-or whatever…"

Soos knew the request was a way of saying 'stand there in case I need you' in a way that made it seem like he really would not need his help at all. He also knew that Mr. Pines had to absolutely hate being treated like this so he took a step back to give him space.

It was only when the two were successfully on the porch and Stanley had a firm grip on the walking cane that Ford gave Stanley his space to walk 'freely.' Though, he kept a lingering, watchful eye on him to ensure his brother's safety.

"GRUNKLE STAN!" The excited exclamation from his great niece was even louder once he was inside. "I'm so glad you're home!"

"Yeah, things just haven't been the same without you here ya old man," Wendy said, coming over and ruffling his hair.

Stanley chuckled and gave Mabel a rather weak noogie as she continued to hug him.

"Boy do we have stories to tell you," Dipper said, coming over to stand next to his Grunkle.

"It's only been three days."

"Yes, but this is Gravity Falls," Dipper reminded him.

"That's true. And you are a group of misfits," he replied.

They all laughed in response. They then proceeded to tell him everything that had been happening for the few days he was been absent. By the time fifteen minutes rolled around, Stanford noticed Stan placing his hand on his lower back once again while his eyebrows furrowed further and further into a constant grimace.

"Okay, I think it's time to continue this party in the living room so Stanley can sit in his chair," Stanford said. "I'll go get a pillow and an ice pack." He squeezed his brother's shoulder in reassurance as he passed.

Dipper took Stanley's hand, hoping it would serve as some type of balance, or any form of help for that matter. To his surprise, Stan did not pull away or grunt out that he was fine. Dipper wasn't sure if this was a cause for concern or not.

Once they were in the living room and Stanley was in his chair, Mabel remembered her gift.

"Oh, Grunkle Stan, I forgot! I made you a Get Well sweater!"

Stan did not even have a chance to respond before she dashed out of the room to retrieve it.

"So, how do you feel?" Dipper asked.

"Eh, as good as I can be after being hacked into."

"So…you've been better?"

"Can honestly say I have, kid," he responded tiredly, rubbing at his eyes.

Dipper's face fell further in concern. He was about to ask if he needed anything when his sister ran back into the room.

"Ta-da!" she presented the large, fuzzy sweater.

"That looks amazing, pumpkin," Stan said, mustering up the best non-tired smile possible. "I'll put it on as soon as I can."

Mabel had already known that he would not be able to wear the sweater right away. For now and for the few days that would follow, he would be clad in a plain t-shirt. Something that would be easy to take off. She beamed nonetheless at her great uncle's praise and laid it across his lap like a blanket.

"Alright, I have a pillow and ice pack for your highness," Ford teased.

Stanley scoffed. "I could've gotten them myself."

"Like hell you could've," Ford smirked, knowing Stanley actually appreciated the teasing jabs. They made him feel less like an invalid.

"Mabel! Dipper! We have a huge group coming through here in about five minutes and we need you!" Melody called from the gift shop.

"Coming!" Dipper called. "We'll be back."

"Yeah, then we can watch The Duchess Approves or some other old movie. Don't move," Mabel pointed at him.

"Kid, I couldn't if I wanted to," he responded.

Once the pillow and ice pack were secure, Stanford pulled up a chair and sat with his brother to watch television. They settled on a series based on finding mythical beasts and monsters, to which Stanford found plenty of aggravation as well as satisfaction in refuting the opinions and tall tales. Stanley would tease his brother for being such a nerd, but never got tired of the unremitting commentary.

"Now, see _that_ could have been a werewolf, but the guy before this? I think it's clear that he was either hallucinating or just looking at a wolf," he paused before continuing. "This guy still doesn't seem very reliable though. He said he was conducting experiments and drinking a glass of whiskey before he witnessed the beast."

"Sounds more like he was making meth then smoking it," Stan said.

"Right?" Ford laughed.

A few more minutes passed as well as two more rants from Stanford before Stanley began pushing himself off the chair.

"Woah, woah, hey. Where do you think you're going?" Stanford put his hand on Stan's chest.

"To go get a soda."

"You stay put," Ford ordered, succeeding in gently pushing his brother back on the chair. "And besides, while you're healing you can only drink soy milk shakes or smoothies. It'll help with the healing process."

Stanley groaned, "Yer killin' me, Ford."

Stanford rolled his eyes, but patted his shoulder nonetheless.

"This is the last time I ever get a spinal surgery."

"Better be! I'm not going to have you throwing your back out and go through this whole process all over again."

"Well then let's make a deal. If I end up throwing my back all out of whack, just leave me there on the ground to the crows and vultures," Stanley said.

"Morbid, Stanley. Morbid."

 **... ... ...**

 **A/N:** Tbh, I can't remember if the skull coffee table actually survived Weirdmaggedon. I'm assuming it did.


End file.
